Holidays with Sherlock
by Unipugs at 221b
Summary: This is just a collection of short stories based on Sherlock and different holidays. Will be updated as each holiday comes. Any holidays I have missed out please comment. most are T but some will be K . Please review and enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Not So Happy Valentine's

 **A/N: This is just a Valentine's Day special for now though I might develop it further later I don't know.**

Genre: Romance/Tragedy

 _James Moriarty._ That's what it said on his school book. _James Moriarty._ Nothing More. No bored doodles or tattered edges like on most people's. Just his name. Nobody knew much about him, except he's Irish. He never talked other than to ask a question and even then, he talked in barely a whisper. But that _voice._ He had the strangest, silky Irish voice which was one of the reasons I was so happy to be placed next to him in class. He was handsome, in an odd, perplexing way too. He had near-black, silky hair and beautiful eyes. Oh god, them eyes. They were wide puppy dog eyes, black bean brown. He was so unusual, so mysterious. I was curious, that was all. That's what I told myself anyway.

It was Valentine's soon. I had to do something for him or he'll never notice me. I made a beautiful card with a silk heart on it. I tried to keep it classy and not too sugary sweet. I got to school early and took it out of my bag. I laid it down on his desk before calmly fast-walking out. I was creeping down the corridor when I heard quiet footsteps. I fled into the toilets nearby. I'm not stalking him or anything, I just want to see his reaction. That was what I promised myself. I slinked to the doorway and stuck my head out. I could just see him. He reached into his bag and -. No, no, no. I backed away, my face flushing red, my eyes brimming with tears. No. no, no, no, no, no. I'm such an idiot. Why would I ever think _he_ would like _me_. I saw him take out a card and place it on – Jessica's desk. Jessica. Yes _her_. You know, just the most popular and catty girl in the school. That Jessica.

It was the next day, and just a little bit after Jessica had given me the final proof that she was the cruellest, soul-draining being to ever exist. I felt so bad for poor, poor James. She had just pulled the nastiest prank ever.

On Valentine's she opened her regular stack of her admirers' corny love notes. But at the bottom there was one extra card. It was beautiful, diamanté studded card, a far cry from the unoriginal red rose and heart designs. Inside, a carefully printed message spoke in silver ink:

 _To Jessica, my beloved,_

 _I love you like the birds love the call of spring,_

 _I need you like the birch needs the sun and rain,_

 _Be mine o Jessica._

 _The dearest of love,_

 _James Moriarty_

Jessica looked up and met James' eyes. She walked up to him and declared, "Oh James. How romantic! I love you too!" Then she bent down and kissed him lightly on the cheek. I watched in despair as everyone crowds round, sending my handmade heart, as well as my real one, fluttering to the ground.

For the first day, he was treated like a king. When his new gang of mates passed a poster for the junior dance everyone declared he needed to enter the King and Queen vote with Jessica. He blushed before stating that alright, he'll give it a shot. Everyone cheered and they moved on. I peeked at the poster. Oh my god! It was tomorrow! Time had passed so quickly it was the junior dance on February 15th! It would start at 8pm, the voting would take place from 9 to 9:30 and it would end at 11. I already had an outfit and me and my two best friends decided to stick together so I didn't need a date. At least I was sorted!

It was at the dance that they turned. They were still awfully nice to him the entire dance but at the end the crowning took place. Brendon had offered to do the ceremony and told everyone the obvious. The winners were James Moriarty and Jessica Green. Now known as a couple to their friends as Jamica. Jessica gladly accepted her crown and stepped aside, smirking. For Brendon placed a thorn crown on James' head and immediately after someone over the stage dropped a bucket of rotten food from the canteen over him. He gasped in shock and everyone burst out laughing. Phone videos were recorded and everyone could see. I stared in horror at what they had done. Brendon began to talk," You didn't really think you could be one of us, did you? You're a creep James!" As he was walking off, eyes streaming, he slipped, landing flat in the slime. "Stay down there in the dirt, where you belong!" Jessica cackled. James stalked off the stage. I ran after him.

"James? James! I'm so sorry. I wasn't in on it, I swear! I even gave you a card! James?"

"Go away," he turned to face me, with a dangerously psychotic look in his eyes, "GO AWAY! Please, before I do something I'll regret." I backed away, shaken.

The next morning I heard a yell. Suddenly everyone crowded the alleyway beside the bike shed. For there was the scariest, most hard to forget image any of us would ever see. Two bodies, barely identifiable as Jessica Green and Brendon Cooke. And James, James Moriarty, holding a bread knife and _smiling_. He slowly turned to face us looking up with those crazed black bean eyes.

"James…" Matt, Brendon's best friend, whispered, "Please tell me this is a joke. A sick joke."

He never stopped grinning, even when he was talking. "Not James anymore," he shook his head slowly, "Just… Moriarty… Or Jim… Yeah, Jim Moriarty…"

I gaped in shock. "Jim…" That was all I needed to say. His eyes filled and he knew he had disappointed me.

"I-I'm sorry…" he whimpered, "I've failed you, haven't I?"

I wanted to say no, that it was okay, it was all good. But shock and horror took me over and I just said, "Yes… Yes you did."

That was the last time I ever spoke to, or saw, James Moriarty.


	2. Chapter 2

You Flipping Idiot!

 **A/N: Hi, I'm trying to keep things mixed and different so for Shrove Tuesday this is a Johnlock fic because I'm in a Johnlock mood right now. Please enjoy and sorry if you're not a Johnlock person. It's also really short sorry but Shrove Tuesday is hard to write about so yeah. Please review it really helps! Also the format is wrong it's something with Word I don't know how to fix it.**

Genre: Humour/Romance

John walked into 221b, weighed down with bags.

"Did you get the milk?" Sherlock greeted in a very, well, Sherlock manner.

"Yes." John started emptying the shopping and putting stuff away. He opened the fridge to put away the milk, "Really Sherlock? A whole foot this time," he asked, staring at an icy foot inside.

Ignoring his question, Sherlock asked one of his own, "What's this?"

"Pancake mix."

"Yes, I can read, but why?"

"Because today is Pancake Day."

"Pancake Day?!"

"Yeah. Shrove Tuesday? When people use up all their spare food for Lent into cakes or pancakes."

"Bet Mycroft loves that then," Sherlock mumbled.

Now it was John's turn to do the ignoring. "Anyway, I thought it would be fun to make pancakes. And the mix was buy one get one free," John explained.

"If you're supposed to use up ingredients then why do people buy mix?"

"Because it's tradition."

Sherlock was silent a few minutes, "You know I won't eat them."

"Would you like to invite your brother then?"

"No."

"Well there you go."

The two men found out a pan and squeezed some mixture out. It slowly cooked and after a while John told Sherlock it was time to flip the pancakes.

"Do you want the honour?" the doctor teased.

"Don't be so juvenile, John."

"You're just jealous." The blogger demonstrated this by flipping the pancake up near the roof, spinning around, and catching it back in the pan.

"Give me that!" Soon both boys were showing off and laughing together. Then Sherlock tossed yet another pancake in the air. John stared in comical horror as it came back down, right on top of his face. Sherlock sniggered, and that snigger turned into a snort, and then giggling, and full out hysterics. John huffed as Sherlock grabbed his phone and snapped a photograph.

"Really Sherlock?"

"I'm sorry. Do you need help cleaning up?" John was surprised at this sudden burst of sympathy.

"Actually, that would be great. The cloths are – "John was shut up by the feeling of Sherlock's soft lips pressing against his. It wasn't anything rough, or forced. Just a gentle touch. So plain yet full of passion.

Sherlock pulled away and wiped some of the dough off of his friend's face. Maybe more than a friend.

"Never talk about this again." He ordered, hands on John's shoulder's, holding him at arm's length, before pulling him in for a second go. This time John was definitely kissing back.

After a while they dished up their pancakes and sat down to watch TV as if nothing had happened. But they were leaning ever so slightly closer to one another.

 **A/N: This is like half the size of the other one sorry but sometimes short is sweet. The format is messed up so sorry. Please review and stuff!**


End file.
